


Five Times Cassian Sees Jyn Sleeping With Her Blaster And One Time He Doesn’t

by SuchStuffAsDreamsAreMadeOn



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Blood, Denial, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hoth, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Scarif, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchStuffAsDreamsAreMadeOn/pseuds/SuchStuffAsDreamsAreMadeOn
Summary: It’s his blaster, of course.  A quick search of his bags had revealed that after he had agreed – impossibly – to let her keep it, and yet, in the days, weeks, and months that followed Cassian was never once sorry for his decision.  He would never admit it to himself but, despite all of K2’s nagging, he was glad that a part of him would always be there to protect her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you thank you to the amazing [Kobo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kobo/pseuds/Kobo) for all the editing and encouragement! This fic would not exist without you!

It’s his blaster, of course. A quick search of his bags had revealed that after he had agreed – impossibly – to let her keep it, and yet, in the days, weeks, and months that followed Cassian was never once sorry for his decision. He would never admit it to himself but, despite all of K2’s nagging, he was glad that a part of him would always be there to protect her. 

 

1.

 

It’s their third mission since Scarif. He doesn’t know how long Command will continue to schedule them together on missions, but he’s not complaining. He has lived long enough with the Resistance to know that any moment he is offered is not to be dismissed.

Not that he values his time with Jyn, he reminds himself. Yes, she is a good fighter and yes, he finds himself trusting her more and more. He knows she will watch his back, just as he will watch hers, and if they are falling into a rhythm – an unspoken communication that allows them to anticipate the other’s next steps – it is simply because this is their fifth mission together. He values her as an ally and a member of his team, nothing more. 

So if he finds himself watching her occasionally, entranced by the way she tucks her hair behind her ear absentmindedly or bites her lip when she’s concentrating on their mission plans, it is only so that they can complete their missions better, faster, and with more ease.

If that is actually the case, however, Cassian has failed because this mission has been neither better nor faster, and “easy” is the last word Cassian would use to describe the shit show he and Jyn now find themselves in. Their recruiting mission had gone south when one of their potential recruits had turned informant for the Empire, which, Cassian thought it was safe to say, disqualified this man from being accepted into the Alliance. Cassian and Jyn had gotten out in time, a glance out the window and a well placed back door the only reasons they hadn’t been captured in the bar they had been frequenting, but now they were pinned down, holed up in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, waiting for Imperial shuttles to clear the airspace enough for K2 to pick them up. Cassian figures it will be several hours before it will be safe for them to move.

Cassian glances across the room at Jyn. She sits with her back against the crumbling wall, her head leaning against it like her neck doesn’t have the strength to support her head by itself. Neither of them had slept since the mission began. He had caught a few hours on the trip from Yavin IV and had suggested she do the same, but she had been cleaning her blaster when he had fallen asleep and had been going over their orders – again – when he had woken up. He doubted she had slept in the interim and the dark circles under her eyes help confirm his suspicions. Adrenalin had carried her this far, but the crash would kill her yet.

“You should sleep,” he tells her. Her glassy eyes take a moment to find his.

“I’ll sleep when we’re off this Force-forsaken rock.” 

Cassian exhales sharply, half in annoyance, half resignation. What had he expected? He doubted Jyn had ever once in her life given in without a fight. 

“You’re no good to anyone dead on your feet.” While he has no doubt adrenalin would kick back in if necessary, a human can only function so long without sleep – a fact K2 loves to remind Cassian of at any hint of a restless night. While Cassian more than willingly ignores the droid, he finds it infinitely more annoying when someone else ignores him. 

And yet it isn’t annoyance that drives him to stand and cross the room. He stops in front of Jyn, kneeling down so that their eyes were level. “You need to sleep,” he repeats. 

“’M fine,” she slurs. Her eyes narrow and her mouth tightens. A few weeks ago Cassian would have assumed Jyn’s anger was directed at him, but he can tell now that it is actually directed inward at her own internal weakness. In this case, the need for sleep. 

Cassian shrugs off his jacket while Jyn remains motionless, her hands loosely holding her blaster in her lap. Slowly, half expecting her to attack him for it, he reaches around her and drapes the jacket over her shoulders. She doesn’t attack him, and her stillness and acceptance are just two more signs of her utter exhaustion. His fingertips tingle as they brush her shoulder but he ignores the sensation – just as he ignores the slight hitch in his chest – and straightens the jacket around her form. He stands, and looking down at her he is suddenly aware of how small she is, her face pale and her body enveloped in his jacket.

“Sleep, Jyn,” he tells her quietly. “I’ll take the first watch.”

He turns and retreats to the opposite wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, as if an outward appearance of calm would silence the unwanted thoughts in his head. He doubts that she will take his advice, but after a moment Jyn slides to the floor.

He watches her for a few minutes. Her breathing evens out and the small creases between her eyes soften. She curls in on herself, one hand still holding her blaster, the other clutched around the edge of his jacket. Despite everything, Cassian marvels that anyone – let alone Jyn Erso – trusts him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Perhaps this small fact is just another step on the long road to redemption.

 

2.

 

The beeping – constant and steady and seemingly without beginning or end – slowly worms its way into Cassian’s mind. He floats for a while, somewhere between waking and sleeping, but the beeping eventually pulls him back to consciousness. 

The smell of medbay remains the same, no matter what Rebel base he ends up on, and Cassian Andor considers himself a bit of an expert on Rebellion medbays. The stark white remains the same as well. The harsh, unforgiving brightness of the lights falls on the sterile whiteness of the sheets. Cassian is convinced that medbays are kept so clean just to make the blood look worse. The shock of red against the white always startles Cassian, no matter how many times he sees it.

This time, however, as Cassian takes a mental inventory of himself, he doesn’t feel as though he’s been shot with a blaster or stabbed through with a vibroblade. While medical droids usually administer painkillers there is always a telltale tightness of a wound and pressure of a bandage to alert him to his injuries. But he can feel none of that. In fact, he doubts that there was much blood at all when he was brought into medbay. Then why was he brought into medbay?

The pounding in his head and the wetness in his lungs finally remind him. They had been warned about the epidemic during their mission briefing before Cassian, Jyn, and Bodhi had been sent out on the reconnaissance mission, but no one thought the sickness had penetrated the upper levels of the city. They had apparently been wrong.

Cassian’s fever had started during their third night, but he hadn’t said a word to anyone. Not that he had seemed to need to. He could tell by the way that Jyn watched him – silently but intently, with steel in her eyes – that she knew something was wrong. As they were getting their gear in order she had placed her pack by his side, riffling through it without looking at him. When she spoke her eyes still did not meet his. 

“You shouldn’t come,” she told him, her voice quiet so that Bodhi wouldn’t hear. “I can do this on my own.”

He sighed, wishing away the fog that was beginning to cloud his brain.

“No, you can’t. You have to get the security codes while I get the landing information. You can do a lot, Jyn, but you can’t be in two places at once.”

She had been forced to concede and, thank the Force, the mission had gone off with only one small hitch – namely that Jyn, cornered by two guards, had been forced to blast her way out of the intel office to meet him at the rendezvous point. She had grabbed his hand and ran with him to where Bodhi waited with the ship, half dragging him as he stumbled over his own feet. The ship doors had closed and they had taken off safely with the intel, but Cassian couldn’t seem catch his breath.

Luckily it wasn’t until they were in hyperspace that he started coughing up blood. 

A new sensation that does not fit the cold, impersonal surrounding of medbay brings him back to the present: a warm pressure on his right hand. Cassian doubts there is much he can see in medbay that would surprise him – especially after his most recent and seemingly endless stay post-Scarif – but when he slowly turns his head to the side he realizes he was in no way prepared for this sight. 

Jyn Erso sits in a chair drawn close to his bedside, her hand resting on top of his. Her head lies next to their intertwined hands and she sleeps quietly, despite the crick in her neck he is sure she will have when she wakes up. His eyes wander over her sleeping form, realizing she is covered in dirt and a bit of blood, still wearing the cloths she had on during their mission, right down to the blaster strapped to her thigh. 

Heat blooms across his chest and Cassian knows that it’s not due to his illness. He tightens his hand ever so slightly around hers and, as if on cue, she stirs. She looks up at him with sleep filled eyes and smiles softly at him.

“You’re awake,” she mumbles.

“Yeah,” Cassian murmurs back.

Jyn blinks several times, clearing the bleariness from her eyes, and she seems to become sensible to the situation. She quickly sits up, pulling her hand away from his. He misses it immediately.

She clears her throat. “It’s about time. You’ve been asleep for –“ she glances at the clock – “a day and a half.”

He raises his eyebrows at her and she quickly pushes past the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright. My head hurts a bit.”

She nods. “They said that might happen. You should drink something.” She hands him a cup off the nearby table, which he takes it.

“I don’t remember getting here,” he admits, taking a sip.

“I’m not surprised. You were delirious. Spouting all sorts of things.”

Cassian freezes in terror, trying to imagine all the things he could have said – said to Jyn – without even being aware of it, thoughts he would beardy allow himself to think, let alone speak, under normal circumstances that could have fallen from his fever-loosened lips.

Jyn must notice his agitation because she says, “Don’t worry, you didn’t spill any Alliance intel. I still don’t know any of Draven’s super-extra classified secrets. Yet.”

Cassian nods and forces a smile. While he is glad that she has misattributed his fear, he still doesn’t know what he said. He resolves to ask Bodhi later.

She is watching him again, remnants of fear still lingering in her eyes. She had been by his side plenty of times as he recovered after Scarif, but this time is different, because this time – 

“Jyn, I’ve been here a day and a half?”

He can practically see her throw her defenses back up. “Yes,” she responds curtly.

He pauses, wondering if he wants to ask the next question, afraid that he will drive her away yet desperate to know the answer. “Have you been here that whole time?”

Jyn’s eyes flicker to his and there is half a moment of vulnerability in them before she shrugs, the look gone. “They’re keeping us in quarantine. I was exposed to everything you were and I was around you for long enough. They don’t want me wandering around the base potentially infecting people.”

Cassian nods but internally he smiles. While her words might be, and probably are, the truth, he is very aware that Bodhi – who was also on the mission and therefore would also have been put under quarantine – is nowhere to be seen.

 

3.

 

The mission had lasted almost a month. Jyn tunes out the details of the debriefing as Draven drones on about undercover this and mission operative that. She was on the mission, why do they have to go over it again? 

Jyn has to admit that there are a lot of things about living and working with the Alliance that she likes – the regular food and the heat that mostly stays on, for example. She will even admit that she likes many of the people she’s met here. Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze, who all stand to her left, have become her friends – her family, even – in the few short months they have been together. And Cassian, who stands to her right – well, every time she sees him she is filled with heat and an accompanying voice in her head. Welcome home. 

Despite her best efforts and all the training and experiences that have warned her against it, Jyn has become attached. To everything, she reminds herself. Not just to the man who stands so close to her side that his shoulder nearly brushes hers and whose eyes threaten to swallow her – just as a blaze of light almost had them both on Scarif – every time he looks at her. 

Jyn will admit, begrudgingly, to liking many aspects of her new life, but the meetings and debriefings required by the Alliance have yet to grow on her. Which is why she tunes out most of them and only snaps back to the present when she hears their dismissal. 

They nod and turn, each of them more than ready for a shower and then, most importantly, bed. Sleep is rarely ever deep or peaceful, especially on a mission. Princess Leia’s voice stops them.

“Wait a moment, we almost forgot. Sleeping arrangements have been shuffled.”

They all turn back with a sigh. This is the third time since she’s been with the Alliance that their quarters have changed.

“Recruits continue to pour in after Alderaan,” the princess continues, her voice steel as she names her former home planet. Jyn admires her for it. “Since the move to Hoth we can’t build quarters fast enough. We’re asking people to double up until we can get more quarters built and heated.” She glances at a datapad a droid has handed her. “Imwe, Malbus, you two already share a room. Your new assignment is in D quarters. Rook, we’ve assigned you to two other pilots in B quarters. Captain Andor and Sergeant Erso, we’ve assigned you a room in C quarters. Dismissed.”

Jyn feels Cassian tense next to her, but he doesn’t question his assignment. Jyn, on the other hand, doesn’t hesitate to question.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. What about Captain Andor and I?”

Princess Leia had already turned away but she glances back at her.

“A room in C quarters. A droid will show you the way.”

Jyn just stares at her. “One room for the two of us?”

Leia raises her eyebrows. “Yes. Is there a problem?”

Jyn is suddenly acutely aware of Cassian standing next to her. She doesn’t have to look at him to know his eyes are trained directly on her. “No, ma’am,” Jyn says, then turns and walks out of the room.

She and Cassian follow the assigned droid to their new quarters, where it gives them their key code for the door and leaves. There is silence as they both take in their tiny room and the single bed it contains, set into the wall across from a table with two chairs and a single wardrobe. The only other door in the room leads to the ‘fresher. Jyn hasn’t looked at Cassian since the meeting started and the tightness of the space on top of the warmth of his body next to hers catches at her breath. She moves across the room, noting absently that the few belongings they had left behind on their mission had already been moved to the room.

It is Cassian who breaks the silence. “Jyn-“ he begins, but she cuts him off.

“Do you want to take the first shower or should I?” There is something odd in his eyes as he looks at her, but after a moment he relents, running a hand through his hair as his gaze drops. 

“You can.”

Cassian starts unpacking his things as Jyn pulls a clean tank top and a pair of shorts from her small pile of clothes and shuts herself in the ‘fresher.

It’s not that Jyn has a problem with Cassian. Just the opposite, in fact. She likes him, and Jyn doesn’t like many people. But liking Cassian is different. Liking Cassian is more than just not minding if they sit together in the canteen or not wanting him to die on his next mission. It is more than wanting to be by his side so that she can watch his back and protect him if he needs protecting, although she does and, often, is. This feeling is her breath hitching in panic at the thought of him getting hurt. It’s spending two days not leaving his side in medbay after he almost died of fever. It’s waking to sweaty palms and a dry mouth when images of his broken and unresponsive body lying in her lap on the miracle flight away from Scarif play through her dreams at night. This liking is dangerous and terrifying and new. 

And yet the thrill of having him nearby, the tingle that goes through her body any time they touch, and the comfort and solace she finds in his eyes captures her. It is all she can do to hold him at arm's length, to keep him just far enough away that when she loses him, as she has lost everyone else, she just might be able to do what she has always had to do: survive. 

But here they are now; sharing a room and, very soon, a bed. And Jyn begins to wonder just how long she can hold out against temptation.

When she is done in the ‘fresher they trade places and it is Jyn’s turn to unpack. Cassian has left her more than enough space. Jyn came to the Alliance with nothing more than the clothes on her back and has acquired only a few items since. The instinct to pack light, never knowing when she will have to run, is just another remnant of her previous life. 

That being said, Cassian doesn’t have much more than she does. Not that she was expecting him to. She’d been in his room before, of course, but she’d never given his personal affects much thought. 

She places her blaster on the built-in shelf next to the bed and sits in one of the chairs, noticing one of the blankets folded neatly on the other chair, one of the two pillows sitting on top. 

When Cassian reenters the room in his sleep pants and tunic, his hair is wet and hangs down in his eyes. The sight pulls at Jyn in a way she doesn’t think should be allowed, and yet a quiet smile tugs at the corners of her mouth when she sees it. Cassian pretends not to notice, but somehow Jyn doesn’t mind Cassian seeing her smile. If fact, she likes that he does. 

There is a moment of silence in the room, then Cassian clears his throat. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he offers and Jyn suddenly realizes why the extra blanket and pillow had been removed from the bed. 

“No,” she says, more quickly than she should. She continues, trying to cover for herself. “Cassian, we don’t know how long we are going to have to share a room and Draven will have my head if you end up killing yourself because of sleep deprivation.” 

It’s only logical, she thinks to herself as her cheeks heat at the thought of climbing into bed with Cassian. She isn’t doing it for any reason other than logic.

Cassian watches her for a moment. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and hesitant. 

His eyes rake over her body and Jyn can feel her skin flush. She answers, her voice just above a whisper, and she knows in her heart that logic has very little to do with her decision. “Yes.”

Cassian crawls into bed first and Jyn gives silent thanks that she will not be trapped between him and the wall. She never could sleep feeling trapped. Not, Jyn admits as she turns off the light and slips under the covers next to Cassian, that she’s planning on getting much sleep tonight. Heat radiates off Cassian, only an inch or so of space separating their bodies as they lay next to each other in the dark. Jyn prays that Cassian can’t hear her heart beating although, given how loudly and how quickly it’s beating in her own ears, she finds it hard to imagine he can’t. 

She reaches out and touches her blaster, making sure she can grab it easily if the need arises, just as she has every night for almost as long as she can remember. 

As predicted she doesn’t sleep much that night, although she drifts in and out and she doesn’t remember the moment Cassian’s arm unconsciously falls loosely around her in his sleep. When her waking mind slips to the surface again and she registers the warm weight of his arm she can’t help but relax a bit into his embrace. Maybe, she thinks, just maybe, living with Cassian Andor isn’t the end of the world. She pushes away most of her thoughts, but in the dark she does allow one important one to slip through: she’s not planning on running, and neither, it seems, is Cassian. This prospect is new to her, and while the thought of losing him still squeezes around her heart like a cold fist, it suddenly occurs to her that the positives might just outweigh the potential negatives.

 

4.

 

They had been sharing a bed for three nights. Three nights of Cassian’s heart stopping every time his skin meets hers as they lay together under the blankets. Three nights of terror that he would say the wrong thing, touch her the wrong way, and that she would snap and run. And, inexplicably, three nights of the best sleep Cassian has ever had.

However he doesn’t think the same can be said for Jyn, judging by the circles under her eyes and the tiered haze she seems to be living in. It pains him more than it should that she is so uncomfortable sharing a bed with him. He has offered each night to sleep on the floor, but each night she refuses and each night he relents far too willingly. To be able to wake to Jyn’s warmth and breath, to be able to know, without even opening his eyes, that she is safe should be all Cassian could ever ask for. It terrifies him that he wants more, but he knows that, for Jyn’s sake, he will never push for anything more than what she is freely willing to give him. So he treasures her warmth and her breath, telling himself that it is enough. It has to be enough. 

Her labored breathing wakes him. It is harsh and irregular and a muffled cry catches in the back of her throat. Cassian blinks out of the fog of sleep and rolls over to face her, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Jyn?”

Her breathing is becoming more panicked and in the half-light Cassian can see that her brow is furrowed and one hand grips the blankets tightly. Her eyes are closed, though, and with a start Cassian realizes that she is still asleep. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. 

“Jyn. Hey, wake up,” he whispers then, louder, “Jyn!”

She wakes with a cry, her body jolting up, struggling against his firm hand, and she cries out again in fear. Before he can even speak there is a flash of metal in the dim light and Cassian’s instincts take over. He grabs the end of the blaster Jyn had, without a thought, seized from where she kept it on the shelf next to the bed and forces the barrel away from his chest, even as Jyn continues to struggle.

“Jyn! Jyn, hey, it’s me! It’s Cassian.” Her eyes flick towards the sound of his voice and she begins to still. “You’re safe,” he tells her. “You’re alright. You’re safe.”

She stares at him for a moment, eyes wide, chest heaving, then, with a shudder, she releases her grip on the blaster and collapses back onto the bed. Cassian leans over her, replacing the blaster to its spot on the shelf. Her body convulses under him, her slight frame shaking the entire bed with her gasping breaths. Her eyes are wide with fright and her fear sparks something inside of Cassian; a voice that tells him that he would pull the galaxy apart if he could stop her from ever feeling such fear again.

Without a second thought he pulls her into his arms. She presses her face into his chest, balling her fists into his shirt. 

“You’re safe now, Jyn. It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

It is not that she is sobbing so much as drowning. She is hyperventilating, her body dragging in breaths desperately, shuddering with the force of them. Her whimpers are muffled by Cassian’s chest but each one stabs into his heart. He rubs a hand up and down her back, hoping to sooth her.

“Shh. Easy, just breathe.”

Her head rocks against the pillow, spinning with lightheadedness from the lack of oxygen. Cries morph to words. “I can’t – Cassian… I can’t –“

Hovering over her Cassian shifts her onto her back. “Jyn, look at me.” His voice is calm yet commanding and she obeys him, her eyes dry but wide with panic. Reaching down, Cassian presses a firm hand to her stomach. He keeps his voice strong, knowing his own fear will do her no good. “Jyn, I want you to breath. In for six, out for eight. But you have to make my hand move each time you breath. Do you understand?”

Jyn nods desperately, her eyes locked with his, but it takes a few moments before she is able to begin transferring her stuttering breaths from high in her chest to lower in her core. Slowly her breathing begins to even and the necessity of catch-breaths begins to lessen. With one hand still pressed firmly to her belly, giving her something to breathe against, Cassian uses his other to push the hair out of her face, running it along her cheek then stopping at her pulse-point. Her heart rate is still rapid, but, like her breathing, it slows. Finally she is able to close her eyes and Cassian feels her body relax under him.

Silently Cassian pulls her into him again, and this time, while she does grip the front of his shirt tightly, the panic no longer rolls off her body in waves. He presses his lips into her hair, one hand rubbing circles into her back.

He wants to talk to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything will be alright, but he stays quiet, knowing that being there, solid and present, is the best he can do in that moment. Her body is warm, flush against his, their legs tangled together and for a moment Cassian closes his eyes and lets the dark and silence surround them both. But he knows he will have to speak eventually.

She is still in his arms now. Her breathing is regular and she could be asleep. But Cassian knows she isn’t.

“How often?” 

She pauses another moment before she answers. 

“Most nights.” Her voice is hushed.

“This bad?”

“No. Not usually.” She shifts slightly against him and he waits until she continues. “Mostly it’s just the dreams.”

Cassian nods his understanding. He has his fair share of dreams.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he apologizes. She shakes her head against his chest.

“It’s not your fault. I’m not used to there being anyone… there….” her voice trails off and he lets the words sit for a few moments, steeling himself for the next question he knows he has to ask.

“Jyn?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you been keeping yourself awake? On purpose?”

Her silence is enough of an answer, but after a beat her words tumble out. “I didn’t want you to see.” Her voice breaks but there are no tears, just raw emotion. 

“Jyn,” he whispers, shutting his eyes to try and block out the pain her words bring him. “You don’t have to be alone. Not here. Not now.”

She releases a shaky breath and he murmurs his final words into her hair, so faint he’s not even sure if she hears them. “I’m with you.” 

She falls asleep in his arms that night. And the next night. And the next. They both sleep better for it and when one wakes from visions of pain and death the other is there with warm arms and a calming heartbeat. They don’t address it by the light of day, not the dreams nor the comfort they find in each other and especially not the fact that, for each, the loss of the other plays a central role in their night terrors. They don’t address it, but, a week later, Jyn is assigned her own room in the newly functioning E quarters. Cassian tells himself – as he watches her pack her few belongings and transfer them quietly to her new room – that he shouldn’t have expected the closeness to last, that he always knew it was a temporary situation, and that he was fine without her before so he will be again. But the relief that floods through him that night at the sound of his door sliding open and her quiet footsteps as she walks to his bed is unimaginable. And he doesn’t sleep until she is folded once again safely in his arms.

 

5.

 

His hands are slick with her blood when he carries her onto the ship. He cradles her to his body, one of her hands still clutching her blaster, arm slung around his shoulders, the other hand presses her scarf firmly to the stab wound a few inches above her left hip. Despite her best efforts to stem the blood flow the front of his shirt is already soaked in her blood.

Cassian hardly hears the blaster fire from behind them as he screams for K2 to get them out of there. The ship is already in the air by the time Cassian lays Jyn on the floor of the cargo hold, propping her against the wall to keep her upright. She bites off the cry of pain the movement brings to her lips.

“K2! Get us home, now!” Cassian shouts over the roar of the engines as he searches desperately for the medkit. The ship lurches suddenly, shaking violently. This time Jyn cannot stifle her cry. 

“K!?”

“The ship is being fired on, Captain,” K2 reports from the cockpit. “Evasive maneuvers are necessary, but I believe I will be able to calculate the jump to hyperspace momentarily.”

“Just get us out of here!” Cassian yells. He runs, medkit in hand, back to Jyn who moans in pain, her eyes tightly closed. He drops to his knees in front of her, being sure to avoid Jyn’s blaster which lays – covered, like everything else, in her blood and still clutched in her free hand –at Jyn’s side. 

“Cassian.” Her voice breaks around his name and her eyes, filled with panic, flick from his to the roof of the ship, fear covering her face.

“We’re going to be alright, Jyn. You’re going to be fine,” Cassian promises as he pulls open the medkit and starts searching for bandages to stop the bleeding. A bacta patch won’t help if she bleeds out before it can work.

The entire ship shakes again and K2’s voice is heard over the speaker. “I’m making the jump. You should hold on.”

Slipping an arm around her Cassian pulls Jyn into him, her back pressed to his chest as he holds her steady with one hand, gripping at the shuttle wall with the other. He feels the familiar pull of the jump to hyperspace but he cannot tell if it is the rattling of the ship or the stab wound that causes Jyn to shake in his arms.

When the jump is complete and the ship has settled, Cassian’s attention flips back to Jyn and the amount of blood that pools around them. With her back still pressed to him, Cassian lifts Jyn’s hand and peels away her bloody scarf from the wound. A shudder runs through her and a low moan escapes Jyn’s lips. With mumbled apologies Cassian lifts her tattered and bloody shirt away from the wound, exposing her bare skin and causing her body to arch against his with pain until she falls back into him, exhaustion and blood loss beginning to set in. 

With a fresh set of bandages pressed to the wound Cassian is able to shift Jyn back to her spot against the wall. Even that small movement, though, sends a fresh gush of blood seeping through the material. Jyn grits her teeth and her breath catches high in her chest. 

“Jyn,” he says, reaching for another bandage. “Jyn, listen to me. I need you to stay with me. Try to keep calm.”

Jyn’s eyes flick to him and he is relieved to see that there is enough life left in her for her to look annoyed.

“I’m bleeding out from a stab wound, this ship is going to break apart around us at any moment, and you want me to calm down?” Jyn isn’t normally a nervous flyer.

“Bodhi said the ship should hold for at least another mission.”

“Another easy mission, he said. I don’t think firefights were included in ‘easy’, Cassian,” Jyn shoots back.

Cassian applies a bit more pressure to Jyn’s stomach and her breath hisses through her teeth. He wishes he could attribute his shaking hands to the jerkiness of the flight, but the ride has evened out and it is all he can do to push his panic away.

“You’re going to be alright,” he promises, the hot blood leaking slowly through his fingers threatening otherwise.

“You can’t know that,” Jyn whimpers. The fear in her voice cuts through Cassian as easily as the knife had Jyn. Their bloody hands are tangled together over her wound and he squeezes her fingers gently.

“Of course I can,” he tells her, words falling from his lips in a desperate attempt to keep her calm, keep her awake, keep her with him. “Haven’t you heard? I am one with the Force.”

“And the Force is with you?” she asks as a shuddering laugh escapes her. The laugh, more than anything, tells Cassian that the blood loss is getting to her.

“That’s right,” Cassian mutters, but when he glances back up Jyn’s eyes have closed. “Jyn? Jyn!” He shakes her and she gives a small gasp, her eyes fluttering blearily back open. “Jyn, I need you to stay awake. Stay with me, ok?”

“Ok, Cassian,” she slurs.

He can tell shock is beginning to set in. Her skin is cold to the touch and she doesn’t seem to be feeling much pain anymore, although she does cry out weakly when he pulls the bandages away. Quickly, Cassian smooths a bacta patch over the wound and covers it with more bandages. The bleeding has slowed but Cassian fears the damage may have already been done. He looks back up at her and his breath, already betraying his panic with its frantic pace, hitches in his chest. Her skin is deathly pale, her head rocks against the ship’s side, and, although her eyes are still open, she seems barely conscious. Cupping her cheek with his hand, her own blood smearing across her face, Cassian tips Jyn’s chin so that she is looking at him.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice shaking almost as much as his hands. “You’ve got to stay with me, ok? You can’t leave me.” His voice breaks at the end, the tightness of his throat choking off his words.

“Cassian,” Jyn says his name like she only just recognized him. Her brow furrows in confusion. “I’m so cold.”

“I know,” he nods, trying to comfort her. “But you have to fight it Jyn. You have to fight it.”

“I just want to sleep.”

He leans closer to her, only a few inches of space separating them, yet from the way her eyes slip in and out of focus he knows that she is light-years away. “You can’t. You have to stay awake. Be strong, Jyn. Please. For me.” 

He will tell himself later – as he sits by her bed in medbay trying to work though his thoughts and emotions and trying not to consider the possibility that she won’t wake up, that she lost too much blood, that he couldn’t save her – that he did it to keep her awake. He will lock away his own desire for fear of losing her, of pushing her away, just as he has for almost as long as he has know her and he will remind himself that, while Jyn means much to him as an ally and a friend, there are some things she does not – cannot – mean to him. But in that moment on the cargo ship, with the coppery tang of blood filling the air and his fingers slick on her cheek, Cassian Andor doesn’t kiss Jyn Erso to keep her awake. He kisses Jyn Erso because he has to. 

Her lips are cold and almost unresponsive under his, but he thinks he feels her press her mouth against him with what little energy she has left. When he breaks away he feels rather than hears the small exhale of air that escapes from her lips. He sits back on his heels and sees a tiny smile playing on her lips. Glancing back down Cassian places his other hand on Jyn’s stomach, adding pressure to the wound. 

Jyn had almost died in his arms already once before, kneeling on a beach with a blaze of white light rapidly approaching. Cassian had clung to her and wished for more time. More time with her. By some miracle he had been granted that and he knew he couldn’t let it slip by him. Not again. Not without kissing her. Not on his second, and maybe last, chance. 

His lips tingle and heat rises in his chest, only to be beaten down by panic as he looks back up at her to find her eyes closed and her head lolled to one side. Unconsciousness had claimed her and Cassian didn’t know if he would ever get her back.

****

Jyn remains in the medbay for days. Cassian stays by her side every moment for the first two – watching over her through every blood transfusion as she sleeps in her medically induced coma – and every moment he can spare after Draven orders him to return to his duties. He isn’t there when she wakes up, but Bodhi is and the pilot quickly finds Cassian to tell him the news. Fear stops his feet just outside her door. What if he had pushed her away? What if she never trusted him again? What if she ran? But a soft shove from Bodhi pushes Cassian into the room and the sight of Jyn awake and sitting up sends such relief through him that his legs almost give out from under him.

In the hours and days that follow Jyn never brings up the kiss once and she acts so much like her normal self that Cassian wonders if she even remembers it or if she had been so far gone that she hadn’t even registered the event. 

Two days after waking up she is released under strict instructions of bed rest. When Jyn crawls into bed with him, Cassian closes her into his arms, breathing in her sent, and finally relaxes for the first time since watching the knife slide its way into Jyn’s skin. And yet, in the early hours of the morning, with Jyn’s warm body pressed to his, Cassian founds himself awake – with the tingling memory of a kiss on his lips – left to wonder whether he hopes that Jyn remembers the kiss and has simply chosen to say nothing, or if she can’t remember it at all.

 

+

 

1.

 

Cassian’s mission was supposed to take four days. By the sixth day with no word from him Jyn can no longer push away the growing anxiety. She has hardly slept since her bed, only used when Cassian is away on a mission, is too big and too cold without another presence – his presence. Jyn floats through her meetings; even her training duties bring no comfort. She starts every time someone says her name, sure each time that the speaker will be bringing her news of Cassian, telling her that he is safe, that he is on his way home – to her. She refuses to think of the other possibility.

But when her door hisses open she only has to look at Bodhi’s face to know that his news is about the destroy her. He stares at her, eyes wide, face stricken. Fearing she will be sick, all Jyn can do is stand there, feet welded to the floor, and stare back at Bodhi. The silence stretches between then and winds its way, like smoke, into Jyn’s lungs, choking her.

“Jyn.” Her name falls from Bodhi’s lips like a prayer, a whispered plea for him to wake up to a world in which the words he has to say are nothing short of fictitious. But Jyn has lived through enough nightmares to know that they cannot be escaped with wishing.

Jyn would have sliced her own ears off if it meant she wouldn’t have to hear Bodhi’s next words. 

“It’s Cassian.”

A harsh numbness creeps over Jyn’s mind, and she imagines momentarily that this must be what the hypothermia so feared by those living on Hoth feel like. It is through this haze that Jyn hears Bodhi’s explanation. He tells her of an Imperial transmission the Alliance had intercepted stating that a Rebel ship had been shot down by a Star Destroyer. He tells her that the ship was thought to have been carrying Alliance intelligence recently gained on a covert mission. And he tells her that there was only one Rebel ship in the sector the transmission originated from: Cassian’s. 

In short, Bodhi tells her that Cassian Andor is dead.

Jyn hardly registers Bodhi’s tears or his arms hugging her tight. She should ask questions, request verification, or at the very least march into Command and demand that she be dispatched immediately on a mission to avenge the loss. She knows it would be a suicide mission. She also knows she doesn’t care.

But Jyn can do none of these things. She can simply stand there as Bodhi speaks, offering her comfort he knows neither one of them can take. After a few minutes Bodhi touches her arm, telling her he still has to find Chirrut and Baze and let them know what happened, if they haven’t heard already. Jyn blinks slowly, her eyes coming to rest on Bodhi’s tearstained face, then nods.

“Thank you, Bodhi,” she says, her voice tiny and very far away.

He turns to leave, stopping at the door to look back at her. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, his mumbled words squeezing at her heart almost more than she can bear. Then he is gone and Jyn is left alone.

****

A few minutes later Jyn stumbles into Cassian’s room. She knows his key code; he never changed it after she moved out of the room, keeping it the so that she could let herself in every night. She had passed few people in the halls, and those she had stepped aside without a word, having either heard the news already or, having seen her face, knew that she was not to be approached. 

After Bodhi left Jyn had stood, looking around her room, for a few moments before the shuddering weight of the stillness had driven her into the hallway. She followed the path to Cassina’s room, a walk so familiar she could have made it in the dark. She had taken nothing with her, too incoherent to even grab her blaster – an item she was hardly ever without – leaving it instead in its customary place on the shelf next to her bed.

The door to Cassian’s room slides back into place behind her and she leans against it for a moment or two. The room is as quiet as hers, yet somehow the silence is different here. With Cassian in it this room had held comfort for her, protection from her dreams and the real world alike. Even with him gone, shadows of him remain. His coats hang in the wardrobe – he must not have been sent to a cold planet this time – and a datapad and a few papers sit on his table, waiting for his return. With a rush Jyn realizes that he won’t come back for his jackets. Or his half-finished papers. Or for her.

She takes the few steps to his bed, sinking down onto it, her hands shaking in her lap. She had spent her nights here curled into Cassian’s side, fearing that with each night she slipped closer and closer to allowing him past the walls of self-preservation carefully constructed around her heart. She had kept him out because the thought that when she lost him – by his choice or hers or some other event beyond either of their control – she would not be able to survive, terrified her. Sitting on Cassian’s empty bed, his scent still lingering in the air, Jyn realizes that it didn’t matter. Trying to keep her heart her own had done her no good. She would not survive this. And now, instead of having known happiness all she had left was regret. Regret, nights of fear soothed only by his gentle hands and words, and a blood soaked kiss that was so hazy in her mind that sometimes Jyn was forced to wonder if it had been a memory or a dream.

Jyn doesn’t cry. She can’t; no tears will come. She simply lays on Cassian’s bed, her face pressed into his pillow, and screams. She screams for the loss of the ones she had loved openly and the one she had loved secretly, and for all that could have been.

Senseless noise to go with senseless pain.

She doesn’t know how long she lies there. At some point there might have been knocking on the door, but Jyn doesn’t care. She hardly registers the sound if it does actually exist. It stops eventually, so what does she care?

Finally numbness takes hold again as her foggy brain begins to draw her towards sleep. She allows herself to drift, her own relentless thoughts leading her towards oblivion.

I should have told you. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

****

She hadn’t been in her room. Everything in the room, even her blaster, had been in its proper place. Everything except Jyn. He had only one guess as to where she would be. 

The quiet hiss of the door is familiar, the room lit by the lights he knows he turned off before he left. She lies on top of his bed fully clothed, as if she had simply collapsed into sleep without meaning to. The sight of her brings breath back into his lungs.

It is the sound of the door closing behind him that wakes her. Her eyes flash open and she starts into a sitting position. She freezes when she sees him, staring, and all Cassian can do is stare back. He had been so intent on finding her he had never considered what he would do when he did. Silence stretches between them, the four paces between the door and the bed suddenly a gaping chasm.

“Cassian.” 

His name is a whisper of disbelief and seems to drop from her lips unnoticed, but it is all the reassurance he needs.

“Jyn.” 

The sound of his voice seems to cause something inside her to snap. In a blur she is on her feet. He steps towards her, meeting her halfway.

She throws herself into his arms and, before he can register what she is doing, she presses her lips to his. Her kiss is frantic and she clings to him as if she is trying to remove every possible inch of separation between them. He can taste the salt as her tears flow freely down her cheeks, but it is her need to breathe that finally breaks her. After moments that seem to last into infinity, she finally pulls away, taking a shuddering breath. Almost instantly she dissolves into sobs, her arms around his neck, one hand clutching his shirt so tightly in her fist he wonders if she’ll rip the fabric. 

With his arms already around her Cassian lowers them both gently to the ground when Jyn’s knees give out. He holds her as she cries into his shoulder, rocking her softly, one hand pressed into her hair. He tries to soothe her, murmuring words from lips that still tingle with her kiss, the sound of her tears filling the small room. You’re alright. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m safe. I’m alive. 

The force of her sobs wrack her whole body and he tightens his grip on her. He wonders if she has ever cried like this before, if even as a child – trapped in the dark with nothing but images of her mother’s death and a kyber crystal newly placed around her neck – she ever gave in to tears like this.

“Shh, Shh. I’m here, Jyn.”

A fresh wave of tears overtakes her and her breath comes in irregular, stuttering gasps. 

“Easy. Easy, just breathe. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

His shirt is soaked through but he knows there is nothing more he can do other than be there, real and firm under her grip. Her voice is muffled by his shoulder but her cries and whimpers are gradually replaced by his name, her voice breaking. 

“Cassian. Cassian.”

Ever so slowly her breath begins to even out, the rise and fall of her chest falling in sync with his despite the occasional shudder that still courses through her body. When she finally looks up at him, her eyes are red, the comparison stark against the paleness of her skin. He shifts his grip on her, one arm cradling her against him, the other reaching up to push the hair that has fallen into her eyes back behind her ear. 

Voice weak and shaky, Jyn asks, “Cassian, what happened? They said- they said you were.…” Cassian knows she can’t bring herself to say the word.

“It was a mistake,” he tells her, trying to remember the hurried debriefing he had been given. “Another Alliance ship was shot down in the sector that we were in, but it was taken by the Empire before an ID could be made and since they weren’t supposed to be there and we were, Command just assumed it was us. With the Empire there we couldn’t risk any transmissions.” He hadn’t paid much attention to the briefing after he heard he was presumed dead. All of his thoughts had been for Jyn.

She’s still shaking slightly in his arms and her fist in his shirt has hardly relaxed at all, but she has quieted and she leans against him. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and lightly runs a hand up and down her arm. “It was a mistake, Jyn. Just a mistake,” he repeats to her. “I’m so sorry. But I’m here now. I’m here.”

He tips her chin up and captures her lips with his. He kisses her, slow and gentle, feeling her relax into him, the tension in her body melting away. 

While the first kiss of the evening had been desperate – an attempt to make up for everything that had seemed lost, all of the moments unexplored and all of the things unsaid – this kiss was full of promise and hope. The first kiss had looked back, but this kiss looked forward to a future that remained uncertain but that had far more hope in it now that it had even just a few hours ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Write me a note, I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> On Tumblr I'm [wearesuchstuff1](http://wearesuchstuff1.tumblr.com/)


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